“But the rules—”
“Enough!” Vihaan snapped, vibrating in anger as his glare caused the insistent priest to step back nervously. “My wife wants to say goodbye to her grandfather, and she will, whether or not you and your rules agree with it.”
With that reprimand, Vihaan cleared the way for Vera to follow the steps to the final rites. Despite wanting so much to perform every step as a son would, Vera felt herself falter as she approached the pyre on wobbly knees. Her vision blurred as she allowed herself one last gaze upon Nanu’s sleeping face, causing her to draw a gasping breath as the grief of a final farewell crashed upon her with crushing force. A firm hand clasped hers over the torch she held before it slipped from her grasp, a thick arm banding across her back to help her remain steady.
Wordlessly, Vihaan lent her his strength, holding her close as they lit the edge of the funeral bed aflame. With a soft whimper, Vera turned her head into Vihaan’s chest, seeking solace in the shelter he offered. His palm cupped the back of her head, petting her gently, his own voice gruff and cracked when he tried to reassure her. “Shh, I’m here. I’m here, Princess.”
Her tears soaked through the cotton kurta he wore, her nose running as her heart twisted with every crackle and pop of the pyre catching fire. Orange red flames climbed into the air, licking and lashing against the backdrop of an otherwise silent atmosphere.From the cocoon of her husband’s embrace, Vera watched the last vestiges of Nanu’s mortal remains turn to ashes.
Unexpectedly, clarity clashed with grief.
Ambernath Talwar had taught her so much, but she realised only now that her wise Nanu had overlooked teaching her one key skill.
How to say goodbye.
45
Home
Vera
Afew weeks later—
Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.
With every slap of her slippered feet against the cool floors of her house, Vera chanted this mantra to keep her head from exploding.
“Do you have to leave right now?” she asked, louder than she’d intended to be when she skidded to a halt just behind the man she’d been trailing.
“I have work,” Vihaan replied, his attention on his phone. “Go back to sleep, it’s early yet.”
“We need to talk.”
“Later, I have something important to get to.”
Vera reached out and clutched the back of his jacket, spinning him around before angrily snarking out a reprimand. “You’ve had something important every morning for weeks! Make some time right fucking now. What I have to say is important and—”
“You’re making a scene, Vera. My PA is here. Our employees are here.” His eyes fell to her cleavage, his throat bobbing before he stepped closer, blocking her from everyone’s view. “You’re barely clothed,” he bit out, his voice audible only to her. He reached out to possessively wrap the house coat around her tighter, making her roll her eyes. “Get yourself inside, right now.”
Lower lip jutting out in a stubborn pout, she tapped her foot, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
“I wouldn’t have to run after you in a disarray if I could get hold of you, you. . . you. . . dung-filled, fungus-loving, waffle-brain!”
“Did you just call me a waffle-brain?”
“Fungus-loving,” she reiterated with a glare.
The flicker of a smile on his austere face had all the anger draining from Vera. She missed that smile. She missed his easy-going charm and his steady presence. God, she missed him so much.
“We need to talk, Vihaan,” she cajoled, hoping he’d listen. “We need to talk about us.”
And just like that, he went stiff. Dodging her eyes like he was a criminal hiding a secret, he shook his head. “I’m busy. Later.”
“But Vi—”
Before she could try and hold him back, Vihaan spun on his heel and slid into the back seat of his car, slamming the door shut between them.
Vera watched in shock as he deliberately pretended to not see her, staring straight ahead as the car slowly began to roll forward, waiting for their remote operated gates to open. Her hands shook with impotent rage, frustration making her slide one slipper off and chuck it at her husband’s car like a furious fishwife.